


Game night

by HolyEmpress



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-14 23:21:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5762884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HolyEmpress/pseuds/HolyEmpress





	Game night

It's only after he finishes brushing his teeth that he notices the faint light coming from the living room – and checks the clock to see that it's indeed way too late to be still awake, when his boyfriend, unlike him, didn't have the next day off.

\- Toshiki… don't you think it's about time you got to bed ? He asks, sleepily.

He doesn't get an answer.

His boyfriend is sitting on the couch, a Wii controller in his hand, shaking it with incredible precision – and he sighs, because it's his fault, really, for enabling him into this. The box was still perfectly visible, under the tv, taunting him, with the price tag as well. Off course, the sale had appealed to his cheap instincts, and it was just too good, to be able to make his lover happy for _less than five euros,_ but everything in his heart screamed regret right now.

« Cooking Mama » had seemed like the ideal choice. Toshiki enjoyed video games just as much as he did, from a variety of genres, from epic fantasy adventures – as to be expected, from someone who loved dragons so much – to much more mundane stuff like the Sims. It was also an habit left from the time he'd spent living on his own because game made for good company (especially back when he was just too guilt-ridden to call anyone over) and helped him let go of negatives thoughts. He never had to ask to know that focusing on a better, albeit imaginary life had been important in the past for Toshiki. In fact, he even found it to be a little endearing, how his boyfriend always named his heroes after himself – the mental image of all the journeys these other versions of « Kai » had been on.

It reminded him of one of the thing he'd always admired about him – his great imagination, the ability to picture a world and a future so beautiful he just had to want to be part of it, so he could feel amazing as well, painted in the vivid colors of Toshiki's images, in shades of happiness nobody had experienced before. He smiles at the thought – he belonged there, now, between the dragons and the fantasy novels, among the list of things Kai Toshiki happened to genuinely love.

But his relationship with Cooking Mama was different, he realized as he stared at his lover's emerald eyes, focused completly on the tv screen – apparently trying to chop some vegetables for a recipe. He'd gotten used to the mechanics of the game, even without playing it himself. It was the perfect fit for someone as methodical and task-focused as Toshiki, who loved to follow easy steps, and repeat actions until he'd mastered them. He played it during the week, to blow off steam after a hard day of work, but he hadn't anticipated his _obsession_ with the cooking game at all.

Only a few more seconds, and the minigame is over. « Very good », it says on the screen, and he notices his boyfriend answering to Mama's dazzling smile instinctively.

\- You really love her, don't you ? You big sentimental idiot, he finally comments, but his heart is melting at the cuteness of the scene.

Maybe they understand each other on another, he thinks. Enough to prompt him to keep playing at such late hours – which really was a feat, considering how much his boyfriend cherished sleeping above most of his hobbies – just for that smile, and that line, _just as skilled as Mama_ that leaves him wondering about all the childhood his lover could have had with actual, decent parents. Images of the younger Toshiki pops in mind, and he can't help but imagine what that child could have done with someone to cook with, to praise him – to care, about his many talents, instead of his awful aunt that always belittled him. He'd only had a few opportunities to meet with his family, but it had been sufficient for them to showcase their opinions of their nephew – and he remembered, being offended on his behalf, angry against those people, the same who'd left him alone, back when he was sad and _depressed enough to turn against the entire world_. He wasn't the kind to hate anybody out of principle – yet, Toshiki's family was the exception.

But everything was alright now that he was there to care, to compliment, to make him feel _loved_ at every hour of the day, and make up for the mistreatments of the past. Just like his boyfriend's great imagination, his affection could repaint reality as well – make blue skies out of gloomy days.

Or at least, he liked to believe so.

\- You're the sentimental idiot, Toshiki protests as he moves over to let him sit on the couch.

\- Sure, he singsongs, and makes himself comfortable against his boyfriends arm.

There's something especially enjoyable about the situation – just laying there, next to the person he loves the most, in the darkness of the living room, and off course, Toshiki looks pretty, even when he's nerding out like this and that the dishes he was supposed to wash earlier are probably still sitting in the sink at that moment – he smiles, at his own ridiculousness, because, from an outsider's viewpoint, what would be an incredibly boring evening seems like paradise to him. It's enough.

\- So what have you been doing with Mama ? He asks as Toshiki keeps playing.

\- We're making udon.

He stares at the screen for a while, back and forth to the game and his boyfriends hands who shake with precise, regular motions – his seriousness a stark contrast to joyful, silly graphics in front of him.

\- Wait, udon ? Isn't that the one you were already doing earlier ?

\- I didn't get the perfect score last time, he protests sternly.

He hesitates between laughing and getting mad, at the fact that Toshiki's been trying to perfect the same recipe for three hour straights, but decides to just ignore it entirely, because it's just so typically _him,_ and it's his responsability as the adult of the house to take the matter into his hand, so he takes the controller away from his boyfriend, stops him from commenting with a single kiss – and he frowns, but accepts his fate nonetheless.

\- Mama's telling you to go to sleep, imbecile, he says as he turns the tv off.

He grabs a few blankets on the way – he knows Toshiki's probably too tired to go through the supreme effort of walking to the bedroom, so he comes back to lay against him, just like they did during their movie marathons. His boyfriend is cold, as always, so he puts his arms over him, to draw him just a bit nearer – and warm him up, maybe, though the feeling of his soft hair against his neck his also immensely pleasurable as well. Toshiki always seemed small, against him – no matter how strong he was, he just had the instinct to protect him, hold him close, to chase the nightmare away and make sure he had the peaceful sleep he deserved.

\- If I catch you cheating on me with Mama again, you're sleeping alone on that couch, got it ? He whispers, eyes half-open.

\- I just wanted to get that Udon right, his boyfriend whines weakly.

But he notices that Toshiki's hand is holding his – absent-mindly caressing his skin, and he feels a warm radiance in his chest, the serenity of a love that didn't need the extraordinary, the prowesses anymore to feel true, and to feel right as well.

(Because the faith his boyfriend puts in him is brilliant like a star.)


End file.
